Isabel woke in an empty bed. Conscious of her nakedness, she moved slowly, careful to keep the cover pulled up to her shoulders. The bed was empty next to her, and the sheets were cold but wrinkled.
"Howard?" she called.
There was no reply. Moving carefully, she slipped out of bed and darted across the room to the closet. She fumbled inside, looking for something to wear. The bedroom door creaked open and she settled for a green silk robe, tying it firmly at her waist. She stepped out of the closet and smiled.
Howard stood in the doorway, balancing a silver tray in his hands. The tray had small silver feet and several domed platters on top. His hair was disheveled and his face was flushed as if he'd been doing exercise. He frowned at her and rushed to put the tray on the bed.
